


Love is

by BornofFlame



Series: Sanders Sides One Shots [42]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Depression, Post-Break Up, Suicidal Thoughts, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:27:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27449377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BornofFlame/pseuds/BornofFlame
Summary: love is a losing game
Relationships: None
Series: Sanders Sides One Shots [42]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1878814
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14





	Love is

**Author's Note:**

> Seven months ago, I met the most amazing person. She helped me come out as ace and genderfluid and her kisses reminded me of thunder and drums.
> 
> she broke up because I didn't want to go to the next base.
> 
> If you replaced the name Logan in this fic with mine, you'd have our relationship story up until tonight.
> 
> you know what hurts me? As an ace, it's already hard enough to find romance. And now I know that my chances of dating are even lower as a genderfluid person. Now, mix it and boom, it's hopeless.
> 
> I feel like the universe wants me gone.
> 
> enjoy.
> 
> -starships

Love makes you blind.

It started with a simple text. You know the one, the classic ‘We need to talk’ that strikes fear into every person’s heart.

It had been going downhill. Logan didn’t know when it started, maybe it was when he fell asleep while they were watching a movie together, or during that one date when his partner had fallen on the rollerskates and he had failed to get there in time to help them up.

All he did know was that he went on a week vacation to visit his family for the first time in almost six months and that when he got back, the text was waiting for him.

Love is a game.

He remembers how they met. The college was doing a hiking activity and he was the only one in the group with dyed hair, the rest being bleach blondes or freshmen that hadn’t figured out their personal style yet.

He remembers sitting on his roof during the fourth of july, both of them wrapped in blankets as they watched the fireworks.

He had his first kiss on that roof. It was nothing special, closed lips on closed lips, both of them breaking apart after and laughing it off.

A week later they had asked them to go steady.

Logan had warned them.

“I’m ace.”

He said he didn’t care, that he was okay with dating without the intimacy. And Logan foolishly believed him.

_ God, he was so lonely before they met. _

Three months.

Three months is a long time to sneak kisses and cook muffins and make videos about everyday life.

Logan remembers being invited to the premiere of a movie that a group of the college kids had made.

He’d been the odd one out in the group.

He remembered a cool hand holding his as they watched it.

Logan remembers a lot, even though he doesn’t want to.

Logan admitted to his depression one night as they lay tangled together on his bed, just being close, nothing sexual about it. He had wanted to keep it secret, but they were talking about deep stuff and so Logan admitted that sometimes, when the loneliness crept in, he wanted to simply not exist.

His love had pressed a kiss to Logan’s hair and promised to help out if needed.

Love is a hoax.

Logan has been in a few relationships before this one. Each time, the other person wanted more, but Logan is an asexual, and a sex-repulsed one at that, and so the relationship ends.

It always ends.

Back to the text.

‘We need to talk.’

Logan has seen enough movies to know that doesn’t mean well. But he hopes that he is working himself up over nothing.

They set a day and Logan waits nervously.

His heart gets shattered.

Logan is smart, he knows what is coming before it is even out of his boyfriend’s mouth. Logan has been traumatized enough as a child to be able to read the subtle clues that his boyfriend gives off when he first walks into the small apartment.

“You want to break up with me.” Not a question.

His boyfriend sags, grateful that he didn’t have to say it. “Yes.”

“Okay.” Logan goes back to the bread he was kneading.

“You don’t want to know why?”  
“I already know.”

Logan does know why. It’s always the same fucking reason. He wouldn’t mind if his partner was polyamourus, because then maybe they would have a healthy relationship, one were Logan didn’t feel pressured into having sex because he didn’t feel that attraction, didn’t have that desire.

Love is painful.

Logan lets his ex walk out. He doesn’t yell, or scream. He doesn’t even cry until about a week later when his ex posts a picture of their new partner.

There’s a reason why people call him a robot.

They don’t see him hunched over a guitar, struggling to play it until his fingers bleed and he’s sobbing because he can’t read music.

They don’t see him sitting at a computer for hours a day, working on his degree.

They don’t see how since he was broken up with, no one has hugged him. That was almost three months ago and he hasn’t been touched by anyone.

They don’t see him wrapping himself in blankets, trying to stimulate human contact.

All people see is someone who is beaten down by the world. Someone who hisses in frustrations during the group projects when he shoulders the majority of the work. They see him with a level voice and a level head, giving advice when they ask.

No one sees him as a person.

_ NO. ONE. SEES. HIM. _

… 

…

He almost kills himself.

Twice.

No one would know for at least a week, he lives alone and house sits for some old rich woman, and she asked him to live in that house to watch it.

God, he’s lonely.

Love is a joke.


End file.
